"I cannot cure him, my poor friend. He is in God's care; in a few
hours he will be with Him."
The child was seized with a dreadful fit of coughing, which I
expected every moment would terminate his frail existence. I gave
him a teaspoonful of currant jelly, which he took with avidity, but
could not retain a moment on his stomach.
"Papouse die," murmured the poor woman; "alone - alone! No papouse;
the mother all alone." She began re-adjusting the poor sufferer in
her blanket. I got her some food, and begged her to stay and rest
herself; but she was too much distressed to eat, and too restless to
remain. She said little, but her face expressed the keenest anguish;
she took up her mournful load, pressed for a moment his wasted,
burning hand in hers, and left the room.
My heart followed her a long way on her melancholy journey. Think
what this woman's love must have been for that dying son, when she
had carried a lad of his age six miles, through the deep snow, upon
her back, on such a day, in the hope of my being able to do him some
good. Poor heart-broken mother! I learned from Joe Muskrat's squaw
some days after that the boy died a few minutes after Elizabeth
Iron, his mother, got home.
They never forget any little act of kindness. One cold night, late
in the fall, my hospitality was demanded by six squaws, and puzzled
I was how to accommodate them all. I at last determined to give them
the use of the parlour floor during the night. Among these women
there was one very old, whose hair was as white as snow. She was the
only gray-haired Indian I ever saw, and on that account I regarded
her with peculiar interest. I knew that she was the wife of a chief,
by the scarlet embroidered leggings, which only the wives and
daughters of chiefs are allowed to wear. The old squaw had a very
pleasing countenance, but I tried in vain to draw her into
conversation. She evidently did not understand me; and the Muskrat
squaw, and Betty Cow, were laughing at my attempts to draw her out.
I administered supper to them with my own hands, and after I had
satisfied their wants (which is no very easy task, for they have
great appetites), I told our servant to bring in several spare
mattresses and blankets for their use. "Now mind, Jenny, and give
the old squaw the best bed," I said; "the others are young, and can
put up with a little inconvenience."
The old Indian glanced at me with her keen, bright eye; but I had no
idea that she comprehended what I said.
Some weeks after this, as I was sweeping over my parlour floor, a
slight tap drew me to the door. On opening it I perceived the old
squaw, who immediately slipped into my hand a set of
beautifully-embroidered bark trays, fitting one within the other,
and exhibiting the very best sample of the porcupine quill-work.
While I stood wondering what this might mean, the good old creature
fell upon my neck, and kissing me, exclaimed, "You remember old
squaw - make her comfortable! Old squaw no forget you. Keep them for
her sake," and before I could detain her she ran down the hill with
a swiftness which seemed to bid defiance to years. I never saw this
interesting Indian again, and I concluded that she died during the
winter, for she must have been of a great age.
My dear reader, I am afraid I shall tire you with my Indian stories;
but you must bear with me patiently whilst I give you a few more.
The real character of a people can be more truly gathered from such
seemingly trifling incidents than from any ideas we may form of them
from the great facts in their history, and this is my reason for
detailing events which might otherwise appear insignificant and
unimportant.
A friend was staying with us, who wished much to obtain a likeness
of Old Peter. I promised to try and make a sketch of the old man the
next time he paid us a visit. That very afternoon he brought us some
ducks in exchange for pork, and Moodie asked him to stay and take a
glass of whiskey with him and his friend Mr. K - -. The old man had
arrayed himself in a new blanket-coat, bound with red, and the seams
all decorated with the same gay material. His leggings and moccasins
were new, and elaborately fringed; and, to cap the climax of the
whole, he had a blue cloth conical cap upon his head, ornamented
with a deer's tail dyed blue, and several cock's feathers.
He was evidently very much taken up with the magnificence of his own
appearance, for he often glanced at himself in a small shaving-glass
that hung opposite, with a look of grave satisfaction. Sitting
apart, that I might not attract his observation, I got a tolerably
faithful likeness of the old man, which after slightly colouring, to
show more plainly his Indian finery, I quietly handed over to Mr.
K - -. Sly as I thought myself, my occupation and the object of it
had not escaped the keen eye of the old man. He rose, came behind
Mr. K - -'s chair, and regarded the picture with a most affectionate
eye. I was afraid that he would be angry at the liberty I had taken.
No such thing! He was as pleased as Punch.
"That Peter?" he grunted. "Give me - put up in wigwam - make dog too!
Owgh! owgh!" and he rubbed his hands together, and chuckled with
delight.
